


mind the gap

by Annerb



Series: Coffeehouse AU [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annerb/pseuds/Annerb
Summary: Dating Ginny Weasley, it turned out, was not easy. Harry still had every intention of finding a way to make it work--time constraints, elections, nosy press, reluctant best friends, parents, and all. (sequel to half awake and almost there)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Coffeehouse AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789351
Comments: 122
Kudos: 483





	1. Chapter 1

i.

Dating Ginny Weasley, it turned out, was not easy.

It was fun, and exciting, and sexy as hell, but logistically, it was a nightmare. Harry always knew her life was hectic, but never realized just how packed her schedule was until he tried to fit himself into it.

He probably should have realized, since she was almost always at the coffee shop when he dropped by, that she maybe worked a lot. But it wasn’t until he asked about it that he realized she worked thirty hours a week.

_Enough hours to keep me out of debt, but just few enough that he doesn’t have to give me health coverage. Your country is a scary place sometimes, Potter._

He could hang around the shop like he used to, but it felt wrong to bother her while she was trying to work. And his ability to be circumspect was…dubious.

In addition, she was taking five classes. Because apparently if she wanted to keep her student visa she needed to be full time. And in good standing. Which explained why she could be kind of intense about it sometimes.

Harry didn’t have a job. He was taking four classes, two of which were complete jokes. It seemed like he had acres of free time. But if he wanted to actually spend any of it with Ginny, he was mostly left with nighttime visits, which certainly had their benefits, but tended to leave Ginny exhausted, what with her unforgivable schedule of doom. If all he wanted was sex, it would be great. But he didn’t just want sex. He wanted Ginny.

He figured if he was the one with all the free time, he should be the one to figure out how to make it work. His main strategy thus far had been to hang out during mealtimes.

 _You have to eat anyway, Gin_ , he told her. _I might as well be here too._

So, yes, they shared a few meals. Sometimes on her campus, sometimes his. At various quick spots here and there. And occasionally even at one of their apartments, where they proved that between the two of them they were not completely hopeless.

 _Ron would be appalled,_ Ginny always laughed as they ate their latest attempt at a meal.

Harry had even started going to the gym with her, because Ginny always made time in her schedule for riding an exercise bike—one of those intense spin-class ones. Sweating and puffing and trying not to look like he was dying while she kept a breakneck speed was still better than not being with her.

 _Some days cycling is the only thing keeping me sane_ , she admitted. _Though you are certainly giving me other outlets these days as well._

He was more than happy to be her outlet as often as possible, but he had yet to take her to the movies, or a nice restaurant, or even a picnic at the park or any such thing. (They did quickly down some sandwiches outside her lecture hall one day, but he wasn’t counting that.) And the fact was, that bothered him.

Still, she spent the night at his place often enough that she had a backup outfit and a toothbrush there. Enough that Hermione had fallen into a pattern of sullen disapproval.

So, no. Dating Ginny Weasley was not easy.

He still had every intention of finding a way to make it work.

* * *

At the sound of a knock, Harry pulled open the front door of his apartment.

Ginny was smiling up at him, backpack slung over one shoulder as she leaned against the jamb. “Look at me, exactly on time.”

“It’s a miracle,” Harry said.

She rolled her eyes at him, stepping past him into the apartment. “Did you get everything?”

He nodded. “It’s all in the kitchen.”

“Great,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek that he would much rather turn into something else, but she danced out of reach, heading into the kitchen. “I’m starved!”

Harry trailed after her, watching as she unloaded the groceries from the bag.

“Think Hermione will want dinner?” she asked as she read something off the back of a box of noodles.

He shook his head. “She has a study group tonight.”

“Oh,” Ginny said. “Probably for the best I suppose.”

She was definitely observant enough to know that Hermione had a problem with this. She seemed to roll with it, but Harry really wished she didn’t have to.

He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head. “More for us,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her neck.

She squirmed away. “If you start that, there isn’t going to be any dinner at all.”

He laughed. “Choices, choices.” 

Poking a wooden spoon in the middle of his chest, she pushed him back away. “Make yourself useful and put a pot of water on, yeah?”

Harry made a face, but did as he was told, watching Ginny out of the corner of his eye as he did.

She was clearly a bit preoccupied, but he was used to that, knowing she usually had three or four other things going on in her head at any given time. He had his ways of distracting her when he wanted. Tonight, though, he kept catching her giving him these covert looks.

He decided not to push. Ginny was never one to hold back, and he knew she’d tell him when she was ready. He started chopping vegetables.

“Harry,” she eventually said as she dumped pasta into the boiling water.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

He glanced over at her, ready to tease her with an opening that easy, but held back when he noticed the way she was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. It was very unusual for her to look this hesitant about anything, like she was trying to find a delicate way to say something.

“Yeah?” he asked, trying to ignore the alarm bells starting to go off in the back of his head.

“About us,” she said.

Harry put down the knife. The alarm bells sounded a lot more like screaming sirens at this point.

“We’ve been lucky so far,” she said, her fingers picking at the edge of a potholder. “But eventually someone is going to get another picture of us, or figure out who I am.”

 _Of course,_ Harry thought. It was really only a matter of time. Because who in their right mind would want that? She’d been rash, thinking it wouldn’t matter.

“I know it’s only been a few weeks…” she said, giving him a look like she was bracing herself.

Yes. Three amazing weeks for all their difficulties. More than enough time for her to rethink. He should have fucking known better.

“The thing is,” she said, and Harry wanted her to stop talking more than anything. She leaned back against the counter, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. She blew out a breath. “Look, I’d like to tell my family. You know, _before_ the world finds out. They don’t deserve to hear about it that way.”

It took a while for the words to actually register through the muddle of self-implosion taking place in Harry’s head. “Wait, what?” he said. 

She winced, covering her face with her hands. “Oh god, I _knew_ it. It’s way too early for a meet-the-family thing.” She shook her head, turning back to the stove. “Just forget I asked. It was stupid.”

“Ginny,” he said, the relief in his chest nearly unbearable. “Meet the family?”

“Yes,” she said, shoulders tight. “That is what we’re talking about.”

He let out a shaky laugh. “Is it?”

She turned back around to look at him. “Yes,” she said. “What did you think I was talking about?”

He shook his head. “I thought maybe you were…”

She studied his face, and he could practically see her thinking back over the conversation. “You thought I was breaking up with you?”

“Fuck,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. You just looked…and the press probably _will_ find out at some point, and it will be horrible, and I just—”

She cut him off, pushing him back against the fridge and pulling his mouth down to hers, a full, proper kiss at last. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close so her body was comfortingly plastered against his.

By the time she leaned back, he felt thoroughly and convincingly kissed, the very idea of a breakup impossible and silly. She smiled at him, hands on his face. “You’re kind of stupid sometimes, Harry, you know that?”

He let out a breath. “Yeah.”

“I know this hasn’t been easy. I know I’m a disaster. But it’s been good, hasn’t it?”

“It’s been great,” he agreed.

She smiled, her cheeks going a little pink. “Okay then. No more jumping to barmy conclusions.”

“So noted,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again.

Their impromptu makeout session against the fridge was eventually interrupted by the timer for the pasta. Reluctantly pulling away from each other, they threw the rest of the meal together with only the occasional interruption. 

It wasn’t until they were seated at the table that Harry realized he’d never really answered her original question.

“I’d like to, by the way,” he said, eyeing the way Ginny was twisting her fork in her pasta, not so much eating it as nervously playing with it.

“What?” she asked.

“Do the meet-the-family thing.”

Her fork lowered to her plate. “That doesn’t freak you out?”

“No.”

She regarded him for a long moment as if trying to determine how truthful he was being. Eventually she smiled. “We usually skype for Sunday dinner. Their dinner, that is.”

“Great,” he said. “Though this next week is going to be a little crazy.”

“Oh, right. Of course. It’s almost the big day.”

“How about the Sunday after,” he suggested, not wanting her to think he was trying to get out of it.

“Yeah,” she said, looking bright-faced and beautiful, and, damn, why did eating have to be so necessary? “That sounds good.”

After finishing dinner, they flopped down on the couch together.

“Ugh, I’m so full,” Ginny complained.

Harry rubbed her back, flipping aimlessly through the channels until Ginny slapped at his arm for him to stop. It was a torrid-looking reality TV show that Harry struggled to understand.

Not that he particularly minded, his fingers playing with Ginny’s hair as her head rested on his chest. She let out gasps and chortles from time to time at the antics on the screen. She made better entertainment than TV any day.

“Gin?” he asked.

“Hmm?” she said, clearly riveted by the dramatic argument taking place on the screen.

“Do you…want to meet my parents too?”

Pushing up on her hands, she looked at him with real alarm, TV show apparently forgotten. “Um. They already know. Don’t they? I mean, there must be reports. Your agents and all.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the way it works. They don’t report on me to her.”

“They don’t?” she asked, looking genuinely surprised, and he wondered exactly what she thought his parents were being told.

Harry knew it killed Sirius from time to time, having to keep things to himself, but even he understood the necessity of safety over gossip.

“They can’t risk me trying to ditch them just because I don’t want my mom to know about something.”

“Oh,” she said. “Yeah. I suppose that makes sense.”

“I mean, they do know _of_ you. But just because of the pictures online.”

She winced, turning her face into his chest. “Oh, fabulous,” she mumbled.

He rubbed his hand up her back. “Look, you don’t have to meet them. I know it’s a lot. And there’s probably no easy way to do it without drawing attention to you, you know, _officially_.”

She groaned. “You’re really selling it, Potter.”

“Hey,” he said, hooking his fingers under her chin and lifting her face up until she’s looking at him. “I just don’t want you to think I’m hiding you from them. Because I’m not.”

Her expression softened. “Okay, yeah. But maybe we could put that off for a little while?”

“That’s fine,” he said, perfectly okay with not having to face that for a while himself. 

Ginny shifted her weight, her leg hooking over his hip until she was more squarely lying on top of him. “After all, it’s pretty unpatriotic of you. To be shagging a foreigner.”

He slid his hands up the back of her shirt. “Good point. It could cost her the election.”

“Definitely,” she said and leaned down to kiss him. 

They made out on the couch until Hermione got home, both of them scrambling to either end of the couch like guilty teenagers as the door opened.

Hermione was in no way fooled, her face red from probably both embarrassment and annoyance, and Harry knew this would just be one more strike against Ginny in Hermione’s mind. With barely a curt nod, she crossed over to her room, the door shutting behind her with a thump.

Harry winced, but Ginny only laughed, trying and failing to stifle the sounds with her hands.

He eyed her, envying her mirth.

Reaching past him, she slowly pulled her bra off the back of the couch where it would have been incredibly hard for Hermione to miss. “Whoops.”

She didn’t sound sorry at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**ii.**

Ginny knew it was stupid to resent how busy Harry was when she was usually the one with the impossible schedule. But she was really beginning to hate this bloody election. Granted, Harry had only been flying around the country with his mum for three days at this point. But that was three days with very little contact beyond the occasional text.

It sucked.

It was also possible she was completely in over her head if she couldn’t handle three days away from Harry after only three and a half weeks of dating. But she tried not to think about that. Instead she worked on finagling any tiny window where their free time overlapped.

In the end, the best she could manage was a quick lunch as he passed through town between publicity events. She told herself it was better than nothing.

On the appointed day, she got to the deli first. It was a small place near her campus, mostly empty since they weren’t exactly hitting rush hour. She picked a table near the back where no one could see them from the street and settled in to wait.

He was already fifteen minutes late when he finally strode in, looking frazzled as usual these days.

He had that annoying cap on again.

She stood to get his attention, and he immediately crossed over to her.

“Hi,” he said, pulling her into a tight hug. He pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek that she wished could be a lot more, but they’d gotten better at this whole circumspection thing the last few weeks.

She felt like they should have an official sign somewhere. _Ten days without an incident of public indecency!_

Still, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from pulling his chair around closer to hers as they both sat down. Apparently he didn’t want to let go of her hand. She certainly didn’t mind. 

“How long do we have?” she asked.

“Forty-five minutes,” he said, looking apologetic.

She squeezed his fingers. “Acres of time. Though I’m glad I took the liberty of ordering for us.”

The server arrived then, loading their table with baskets of sandwiches and chips.

“Pastrami or turkey?” she asked.

He considered the two baskets. “Half and half?” he suggested.

She smiled at him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Potter.”

“Because I have great taste?”

She eyed his cap again. “Well, at least when it comes to sandwiches and women.” 

He laughed, grabbing the baskets and very efficiently swapping the sandwiches around.

Ginny took a few quick bites of her heavenly pastrami, enough to curb her hunger, before settling in to a slower pace. She leaned her chin on her hand, considering Harry as she chewed, just taking her fill of looking at him.

“What?” he asked.

She doesn’t look away. “I’m not gonna lie. This you-not-being-around stuff pretty much sucks.”

His face creased with guilt. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, her knee bumping his. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t had to do more of this,” she said, reaching for a chip, gesturing vaguely with it. “You know, campaigning or whatever.”

He shrugged. “I did a lot more of it last time. One of the reasons I took so much time off school.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “It seemed important, having an adoring son and husband around. To show we were…”

“Normal?”

He laughed. “Yeah. I guess. She could look normal and maternal and wifely, even as she was trying to be the first woman president. This time around…” He shrugged. “Maybe she has something else to prove.”

“And you don’t fit into whatever that is?”

He gave her a wry smile. “Apparently nineteen and adoring is useful, while twenty-four and aimless isn’t.” There was something a little bitter in his tone.

“You’re hardly aimless.”

“Ah,” he said, jabbing a chip at her. “That’s the thing. It doesn’t matter what I am. Only what I appear to be. And twenty-four-year-old sons of the president shouldn’t still be working on their bachelor’s degree.”

“What are you supposed to be doing? Running a Fortune 500 company?” 

Harry snorted. “Probably. As it is, this time around I’m a liability. Because people get to blame my every failing on her, on her choosing a career over motherhood. It makes people ask, why isn’t he more focused? What are they hiding? A drug addiction? A struggle with mental illness?”

“Ugh,” Ginny said. “You’re making me want to go out and punch people.”

He smiled. “Probably not a good campaign strategy.”

She gave him an arch look. “President’s son’s girlfriend goes on rampage?”

“Ha. At least then I wouldn’t appear to be aimless _and_ single.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, because you’re twenty-four. Obviously you should be married with children.”

He let out a huff. “You’d be surprised.”

“I suppose appearing to be single just makes them all wonder if you’re gay,” she said, unwrapping the other half of her sandwich. “Because _of course_ a powerful mother would render her son gay.”

She was so busy trying not to spill her sandwich all over the place as she took a bite that it took her a moment to realize Harry was oddly silent, just staring down at his food.

“Harry?” she asked.

He looked up at her, his expression strangely stony.

She felt her stomach drop to her toes. “What?”

He shook his head, giving her a weak attempt at a smile. For a politician’s son, he had a terrible poker face. “Nothing.”

He applied himself to his food then, and she thought back over what she said, wondering where exactly she shoved her foot in her mouth. All she’d done was joke about…and it’s not like—

Oh, shit. Was it possible…?

Of course it was bloody possible. God, she was an insensitive _arsehole_.

Only, he would have said something before this, wouldn’t he?

_No_ , she thought, watching him with his baseball hat pulled low over his forehead, his face turned down to his food. He probably wouldn’t.

She put down her sandwich, her entire body feeling strangely fuzzy. Her mouth started moving without her brain really giving it permission.

“Do you like being with me?” she asked.

“What?” Harry asked, looking up at her. He sat back, brow furrowing like he suspected this was a trick question. “Yes. Of course.” 

She nods. “Do you like having sex with me?”

His entire body froze, his expression turning wary. “Ginny.”

“Do you?” she pressed.

His jaw flexed. “Yes,” he bit out. 

Ginny wondered if this was what an out of body experience felt like. “And are you going to do your best to be honest with me about what you want in terms of those things?”

“Yes.”

She nodded, trying to breathe calmly enough to make this weird buzzing in her ears go away. “Okay. Then your sexuality is none of my bloody business.”

He seemed taken aback for a moment. Then his shoulders squared. “Because you don’t want to know?” he asked, something a bit defiant in his gaze.

Her stomach plummeted to her feet. “What? No. That’s not what I meant. I just meant that I don’t care.”

His expression only seemed stonier at that, and it occurred to her that was a bloody thoughtless thing to say.

“I mean, god, yes, I _care_ , I just… Fuck, could you please save me from myself at some point?”

“I’m sorry, but they didn’t exactly hand out a guide book when I joined the secret society,” he snapped. 

Ginny leaned back in her chair, feeling her heart pound away in her chest. How in the world did she fuck this up this badly? God, she never should have opened her stupid mouth.

A long awkward silence stretched between them as they regarded each other across the table. She was torn between wanting to run out of the restaurant in sheer embarrassment and the urge to crawl onto his lap and kiss him, like maybe that could fix this.

Harry eventually sighed, closing his eyes. His posture seemed to forcibly relax, like maybe he was going to let her off the hook, but why the hell should he have to do that?

Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?

“Look,” she said before he could get a word in edgewise. “What I was trying to say is that…you can tell me. Or not. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I don’t want you to feel like you _have_ to either way, like I’m demanding it or something. But it’s also not going to change how I feel, or what I want. Because either way it’s just…you. Part of you. And I pretty much want all of your bits.”

She felt a little out of breath by the time she finished, Harry’s face slack as he stared back at her like she was talking in tongues.

Then his face contorted; jaw tightening before a burst of air passed through his lips. “My bits?” he asked.

“Oh my god,” Ginny groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

He was clearly trying really hard not to laugh, but not doing a particularly great job of it. “I’m glad you want all of my bits.”

She made a low sound of complaint, refusing to look up at him.

His chair scraped along the floor as he slid over towards her until their chairs were flush against each other, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “I thought you might be fonder of a few of my bits than others…”

She nudged him in the ribs. “I’m going to relieve you of a few of your bits in a moment if you don’t stop.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was being stupid and thoughtless.”

He shook his head. “Maybe we could just talk about this somewhere else sometime?”

She gave him a weak smile, realizing a public restaurant was probably not the best place for this. “Yes. Of course.”

He tipped her face up and kissed her.

Mentally, she flipped their sign back to _zero days without incident of public indecency_ and then climbed onto his lap.

* * *

Harry heaved himself into the backseat of a waiting SUV, leaning against the window as it pulled away from the plane. He watched the lights slide by in a bit of a mental fog before fishing out his phone.

_I should be back to my apartment by 10,_ he texted.

_Then I’ll be there by 9:55_ , came the quick reply. _Sorry, was that overly eager?_ _That was definitely overly eager. I just miss you._

He smiled down at his phone. It’d been three days since he saw her last, for their admittedly awkward lunch date.

_I miss you too,_ he typed out.

The ride seemed interminably long, but the car did eventually pull up in front of his apartment. He mumbled good night to Sirius and heaved himself out onto the sidewalk and inside.

Up on his floor, the elevator doors opened, and Ginny was already there, leaning against the wall near his front door.

She didn’t say anything as he opened the lock, just watched him with a hungry gaze that made it hard to think.

He took her hand, pulling her into the apartment, not stopping in the common area. He steered her straight back to his room and shut the door firmly behind them.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said back.

“Is that enough small talk?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “Because I would really like to rip your clothes off now.”

“Well,” Harry said, feeling warmth flush his entire body. “I’m pretty fond of this shirt—”

He didn’t get to finish, because Ginny was already kissing him—no chaste, quick kiss, no appropriate-in-public kiss, but a proper thorough hello that had Harry grabbing her waist and dragging her firmly up against his body.

She made a throaty sound of approval, mouth slick and hungry against his.

Fuck, it’d only been a week since they’d last been alone together, but it felt like it might as well have been years. It didn’t take long at all for kissing not to be enough.

Ginny stepped back, dropping her coat to the floor, pulling her sweater up and over her head as she kicked off her shoes. He barely caught sight of a rather enticing lacy black bra before it was on the floor as well. He didn’t give himself time to mourn that, shucking off his own layers as quickly as he could.

There was a time and place for slowly working one’s way through layers of clothes. Today was not that day.

He wanted to touch every inch of her, take his time making her squirm and gasp, but honestly if he wasn’t inside her soon he might lose his mind. Luckily she was on the same page, her hands working at his belt.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” she breathed against his ear as they tumbled back onto the bed, pausing just long enough to grope a condom out of the bedside table.

Harry grabbed a pillow, handing it to Ginny so she could wedge it against her thigh and hip.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

He wrapped his arm over her knee, tucking it into his side to keep it from extending outward and then he was sliding deep inside her. Normally he’d try to draw it out more, enjoy every moment, but judging from the way Ginny was kissing him, the way her fingers dug in on his hips, neither of them had the patience for that. It was nearly frantic with their separation, with their kinda-fight, almost like they were trying to prove this was still there, this raw spark that always seemed to flare when they were together.

“Harder,” she breathed against his ear.

It was the last coherent thing either of them managed to say as he gave himself over to it completely, the feel of her under him, the way she met him touch for touch, and mercifully she got there quickly because there was no way he was going to be able to draw this out. Her fingers raked down his back and he didn’t even bother trying to hold on, jumping right over the edge after her as always.

“Shit,” he said, chest still heaving as he rolled to the side, pulling her with him as she chucked the pillow out of the way. “Maybe I should be gone more often.”

“Ugh, no,” she said, flopping an arm across his body. “How about I just promise to rip your clothes off every so often. Like, say, Tuesdays.”

He smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to whatever part of her he could reach without effort. “Deal,” he murmured. 

They both dozed for a while, and Harry was on the edge of sleep when Ginny spoke again.

“I’ve never done this.”

“What?” he asked, cracking his eyes open to look at her.

She waved vaguely between their bodies.

Harry blinked. “Wait, _what_?”

She looked at his face. “Not sex, you ninny.”

He relaxed back into the mattress, but was certainly a lot more awake now.

Ginny’s fingers drummed on his stomach. “Though you are the first since the accident.”

Harry felt pressure build in his chest, horrified by how close he’d come to never getting the chance to even meet her, as selfish as that was. “Yeah?” he managed, and it took a lot not to put his hand protectively down over her hip.

She nodded, chewing thoughtfully on her lip as she stared up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t sure if it would be different.”

They made adjustments from time to time for her comfort, but more often than not that just led to interesting discoveries and unorthodox approaches that neither of them had any reasons at all to regret.

“Of course it’s different,” he said. “It’s much, much better.”

She rolled into him, laughing. “You are such an arrogant prat.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”

She grinned, her finger trailing down his chest. “I’ll plead the fifth.”

“Ugh,” he complained, throwing an arm across his face. “Education is _ruining_ you.”

“B-plus on my history midterm,” she said, pumping her fist in the air.

“Very impressive.”

“Suck it, Thomas Jefferson,” she muttered.

Harry let out a soft huff, stretching out his arm so she could shift closer to him, her leg draping over his. “So what exactly is it that you haven’t done, then?”

“A, you know, relationship.” She glanced quickly up at his face, like she was maybe waiting for him to correct her about the status of their thing.

He tightened his arm around her. “You haven’t?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.” She gave him a sly look. “Or coffee, as the case may be.”

“I actually do refuse to believe that.” Anyone not wanting Ginny Weasley would have to be out of their minds.

“Yes, well,” she said, waving it away with an indifferent flick of her wrist. “Not a lot of blokes like being second fiddle to a girl’s career. Especially when it means she can kick their arse.”

“Their loss,” he said.

She peered up at him. “You’re actually upset on my behalf, aren’t you? That’s adorable.”

She patted his cheek, and he caught her hand, pulling it away with a scowl.

“Honestly,” she said. “It didn’t make me sad or anything. I’m not even sure I cared enough to notice. I was far too focused on other things. For me sex has always been more get in, get out, nice knowing you.”

That actually explained a lot. The way she’d been so ready to slink away after their first night together. The things she said sometimes, like she wasn’t at all sure what was a normal thing to do when it came to being a girlfriend.

Ginny lifted up on her elbow so she could look down at him. “I’m not telling you this to make you think I’m gonna bolt at any moment. I just…I’m going to fuck this up. It’s inevitable. And I want you to know it’s not because I don’t care, it’s because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

“Okay,” he said, hand sliding up her back. “But keep in mind that just because you’ve had relationships doesn’t mean you’re any less likely to fuck up. Trust me.”

“Yeah?” she said, looking strangely hopeful.

“You actually find that comforting, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she says. “I don’t like being at a deficit.”

She settled back down against him, the two of them quiet for a while, his fingers absently sliding up and down her side.

“I’m kind of the opposite,” he said. “I haven’t really done a lot of…casual. I tend to go all in right from the start.”

“Yeah?” she said.

He ducked his chin, trying to make out her expression. “Does that freak you out?”

“It probably should,” she admitted. “But, no, it doesn’t.”

He let out a breath. “Hermione’s fond of reminding me that it’s my biggest failing. Not being cautious enough. Just diving straight in.”

Ginny made a sound that was probably supposed to be noncommittal, but still managed to sound disapproving. 

“She’s not entirely wrong,” Harry felt the need to defend. Despite her recent huffiness, Hermione was the kind of friend he would never be sure he deserved. He knew without a doubt that she would always be there for him, no matter what. “She’s the one who always gets to be around for the fallout. It can make her…overprotective.”

Ginny winced. “That bad?”

He shook his head. “No. Not really. Endings can just be…messy.”

She frowned. “Yeah. I suppose they would be.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t imagine you want to hear this.”

“I do,” she said. “I do want to hear it. You can’t keep all the relationship lessons to yourself. I’m in training, remember? I need to know what I’m up against.”

She sounded sincere under the seeming absurdity of her words.

She lifted her hand like she was holding an invisible pen and was ready to start writing on his chest. “Start at the beginning. I’ll take notes.”

Only this wasn’t just about general relationship advice and they both knew it. This was about what happened at lunch.

He did want to tell her, even as part of him still wasn’t sure it was a great idea. It would be nice to just have it out there though. Not to mention that Ginny looked like she was bracing herself for him to say no.

“Other than a few little things back in high school, my first real… Well, he was…” He broke off, honestly having a hard time describing him.

“He was what?”

He rubbed at his nose. “You ever been with someone you were never sure if you wanted to punch them or…”

“Shag them?” she guessed.

He huffed. “Yeah.”

“I always try to keep shagging and punching separate. Career imperative.” She playfully tapped her fist to his ribs.

He caught her fingers, holding them tight. “Good for me, I suppose.”

“I never really went through the bad boy phase,” she said.

He winced, remembering some of the worst moments. “I don’t recommend it.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That awful?”

He blew out a breath, knowing that wasn’t fair. “No. Not really. We just weren’t particularly right for each other. At some point conflict is just conflict, I guess. Really exciting in the short term, but over time…”

“Not exactly sustainable,” she mused.

“Yeah. We were also just…young. And terrified. And really, really stupid.” It was strange how clear that was from this much distance. When he was in it, things were much more muddled.

“Terrified?” she asked.

“He was still struggling with it, you know? And his parents… He was convinced that if they ever found out they would disown him or pack him off to some behavioral correction facility or something. Somehow that always ended up being my fault. Like I’d done this to him. Made him that way.”

“Christ,” she said.

He nodded. “It bugged him too. That I’m bisexual. Like it was some sort of cheat because supposedly I could _choose_ to be ‘normal’ anytime I pleased.”

She frowned. “That’s not…” She stopped talking abruptly.

“What?” he asked when it was clear she wasn’t going to finish the thought.

She shook her head, pressing her face into his shoulder. “No way. I am so completely out of my league here. I refuse to fuck this up further by saying something else stupid.”

He rolled over on his side so he was facing her across the pillow. “Just say it.”

Her gaze traveled over his face as if judging his sincerity. She eventually sighed. “Fine. I just find it weird. Talking about it like that…like it’s who you’re with and not, you know, who you _are_.”

She looked at him, clearly wondering if she’d put her foot in it again. “Right? I mean, being with me doesn’t change who you are. Does it?”

“No,” he said. “It doesn’t.”

She blew out a breath, like she’d dodged something. “Oh, good.”

“Hey,” he said, touching her face. “I’d rather you try and fuck it up than tiptoe around me. Okay?” He wasn’t sure he could bear that.

She was still for a long moment, her face tipped away, and then she was pushing him onto his back and lifting herself up so she was looking down at him. She seemed to struggle to find something to say.

“Okay,” she said, voice a bit rough.

Then she was pressing her lips to his, kissing him slow and sweet, with none of the pent-up impatience of their reunion. No running ahead, just her fingers delicate on his face as her mouth opened wide, her tongue sliding against his. It didn’t build or demand or end, just went on and on. It was all ease and warmth and something else, something almost unbearable building in his chest.

How anything as simple as a kiss could feel more deeply intimate than all the other things they’ve ever done together, he would never know. All he knew was that he felt so terribly cherished and needed and wanted that he didn’t know how he was supposed to be able to breathe.

He wanted to fall into her and never crawl back out.

She eventually broke the kiss, sucking in a deep breath and pressing her face into his neck. He tried not to feel the loss of it. 

“Ginny,” he said, wrapping his arms around her like he could somehow pull her inside of him.

She burrowed in closer. “Is this…is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” she asked, sounding just as shaken as he felt.

He breathed her in deep. “I don’t know.”

But god, he hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

**iii.**

_Help a guy out?_ the text said, accompanied by a picture of hands flapping the ends of a bow tie.

Ginny smiled. _Very happy to lend you a hand anytime, Potter. But keep in mind that I’m much better at getting menswear off than putting it on._

All she got in response was an address.

It actually wasn’t all that far, just back into the edge of the Logan Circle area a few stops up. She knew she was in the right place when she saw the completely unsubtle black SUV parked out front. Not that DC wasn’t overpopulated with them to begin with, especially the closer you got to downtown.

An agent she didn’t know was at the door to the simple shop front. He eyed her, speaking into his wrist. After a moment he apparently got permission to let her past, because he opened the door for her.

The shop was starkly minimalist with bolts of cloth lining the walls, a few sparse and clean computer workstations along a counter in the center. Sirius stood near a door at the back.

“Miss Weasley,” he said, all prim and proper if not for the shit-eating grin on his face. “What a pleasant surprise.”

She shot him a little two-fingered salute and canted her head at the door in question. “Is he back there?”

He laughed, rapping his knuckles on the door. “You decent enough for company, Harry?”

“For god’s sake, just let her in, will you?” Harry snapped.

“Fair warning,” Sirius said as he opened the door for her. “He’s in a bit of a mood.”

“You’re a bit of a mood,” Ginny shot back as she walked in. Or more like all of the moods, all at once.

Inside, she looked around. The room was a changing area of sorts, with a wall of angled mirrors around a small raised platform. This was where Harry stood.

“Ginny, thank god,” he said, stepping down to cross over to her. He was wearing a rather swank tuxedo, only turned inside out with a bunch of chalk lines and a million pins lining the seams. “I thought you would never get here.”

She smiled at his impatience. “I did come straight away. I can’t just magically appear at will.”

There was a frowning man with a wrist pin cushion in the room as well, so she was a bit surprised when Harry pulled her in for a very thorough, if not carefully angled kiss. Perfectly appropriate, but not circumspect at all.

She glanced at the guy, but Harry just smiled. “That’s Blaise. He can keep a secret.”

The guy didn’t even look up. “It’s not that I can keep a secret as much as I just don’t care.”

Harry laughed. “That’s true.”

“Back up there, Potter. I haven’t got all day.”

Harry rather reluctantly let go of her, climbing back up to stand on the platform.

“If you have a personal seamstress, not sure why you needed me here,” Ginny said. He wasn’t even wearing a tie at the moment.

“I just…wanted to see you,” he said, face tipped down as he fiddled with the lapel of the jacket.

Blaise slapped his hand away. “For god’s sake, stop being disgustingly adorable and just stand still will you? You promised to be more cooperative if I let her come.” 

Harry looked sheepish. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Ah,” Ginny said, walking further into the room. “I’m here for entertainment then, am I?”

She kicked off her shoes, lying down on her stomach on a completely ridiculous velvet fainting couch. Kicking her feet up behind her, she leaned on her elbows, her chin propped up on her hands, giving Harry an excellent view down her shirt just to watch the way he struggled not to squirm.

“Ouch,” Harry complained, apparently getting jabbed.

“Then hold still,” Mr. Grumpy the pin-wielding maniac said.

Taking pity after the fifth time he got jabbed, she sat up. Harry looked both relieved and disappointed.

“So tell me about election day,” she said, lounging back.

He sighed. “It’s kind of hellish. Everyone is tense and pretending they aren’t, and Dad and I are just sitting in a box-like room while everyone else runs around and pretends there is anything that can be done at that point. Dad does what he can to keep my mom from losing her mind. And I just wait for someone to tell me what to do.”

“Sorry I can’t be there with you.”

He gave her a fervent look. “I wish you could be.”

She shrugged. “You should get me a job as a maid or something. I could go undercover.”

“White House barista?” he suggested.

She laughed. “I could get a black suit and stand around looking uptight and pretend to be an agent.”

“I am _not_ uptight,” came an indignant voice from the other side of the door.

Harry let out a burst of laughter that quickly turned into a gasp. “Fuck, Zabini,” he complained. “Am I bleeding?”

Blaise seemed unmoved. “Respect the couture, Potter, or get the needle.”

Harry gave him a dubious look. “You know I have agents, right?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered around a pin in his mouth. “You’re really fucking important. I’m terrified.”

Harry looked at Ginny. “My girlfriend can kick your ass.”

Ginny tucked her hands behind her head. “He’s not wrong.”

Blaise turned and appraised her for a moment. “I actually kind of believe that.”

“Have I mentioned I have a gun?” the voice bellowed in from the hall again.

“Shut up, Sirius!” they chorused.

* * *

“I can ditch,” Ginny said as the car pulled up to the kerb a few blocks over from her school. After finally finishing up with his stint as a human pincushion, Harry had insisted on giving her a ride back to class.

“No,” he said. “Just because I refuse to take my classes seriously doesn’t mean you should.”

She pulled a face. “Hanging out with you is surely more valuable than one measly lecture.”

He smiled at her, taking her hand. “I’ll walk you. How about that?”

She considered that, knowing it meant she had more time to change his mind. “Going to carry my books for me?”

“Definitely.”

She’d been joking, but he commandeered her backpack all the same. She let him, deciding she could indulge his need to feel useful.

She wound her arm through his. “So I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” he asked, face lifted to the sun as if he was greatly enjoying a moment outside while he wasn’t on camera.

“Do your parents know?”

He looks down at her. “About what?”

“You said your ex hid it from his parents. Did you have to hide it from yours?”

He shook his head. “Oh. No. They’ve known for a long time. I was lucky, I suppose. They’ve always been supportive.” He paused. “They say they’re cool with it.”

“But?” she prompted, definitely hearing something else lurking under there.

He shrugs. “After the pictures of us online and everything… I still found myself wondering if they were relieved that at least you’re a woman.”

She grimaced. “Oh.”

He let out a humorless laugh. “It’s not like I don’t get optics. Politics has been my life for a while now.”

That didn’t make it right though. “I’m sorry.” 

He smiled. “Not your fault.”

“Well,” she drew out, pressing her body against his arm as she pulled him to a stop under a nearby tree. “It kinda is.”

“How’s that?” he asked, sounding a little strangled.

She shrugged, stretching up to prop her chin on his shoulder. “I’m irresistible.”

“Good point,” he said, his fingers faintly brushing down her neck. 

She licked her lips, and he made a small sound of complaint.

“One more day,” he said, though she wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to remind.

She nodded, letting out a deep breath. With effort, she made herself keep walking. “One more day.” 

* * *

“Hold on to your knickers, I’m coming!” Ginny yelled as someone continued to pound relentlessly on her flat’s door. Crossing over to it, she wrenched it open. “What?”

It was Dean. “Snacks. Champagne. Dress up. We are doing this in style.”

She blinked at him. “Huh?”

He snapped his fingers in her face. “Catch up, Weasley. We’re having a watching party. For Harry’s mom. Managed to splice cable from the neighbor for the occasion and everything.”

“Oh,” Ginny said, having planned to sit hunched over her phone on her own looking for updates. This sounded much better. “Great. What can I bring?”

“You can be in charge of beer,” Dean said. “And don’t forget to dress fancy!”

And so a few hours later she was knocking on Dean and Seamus’s door.

Seamus answered wearing a t-shirt with a tuxedo printed on it, but a large sparkly green top hat on his head. He let out a laugh when he saw her, dressed as she is in her sparkly dress from Halloween.

“It’s pretty much the only fancy dress I have,” she said with a shrug.

“Well,” Seamus said. “It was lucky for you last time, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

She shoved him, moving past him into the flat.

Seamus laughed, shutting the door behind them. “Victory,” he said, pointing at a large plastic container filled with ice and two bottles of champagne. “And defeat.” He pointed to a really cheap bottle of tequila.

“It’s going to take a lot more than tequila if that asshat wins,” Dean called from the kitchen.

“Yes, well. Tequila is step one. Step two is getting Ginny’s parents to adopt us and all moving to England.”

Dean appeared with a giant plate piled high with nachos. “Just so we have a backup plan.”

“Two more brothers,” Ginny complained. “Just what I need.”

“You should be so lucky,” Dean said.

They sat on their crappy old couch in their ridiculous fancy dress and ate nachos and drank beer as they watched the election coverage. It was still barely enough to get through the painful punditry.

“I can’t believe this is a job,” Ginny moaned as someone explained the margin of errors of exit polls and the effect of unexpected rain in the southwest.

_How are you surviving?_ she texted Harry.

_Pretty much as expected,_ he responded.

_I could try distracting you with dirty texts._

_I’m sure my father and Sirius would enjoy reading those over my shoulder._

_YES WE WOULD,_ came another text, clearly not from Harry.

_Sod off, Sirius. And give Harry back his phone, you middle-aged creep._

She entertained herself by imagining Sirius’s expression to be called middle-aged. What a git.

_Something’s happening,_ Harry wrote _. Gotta go._

_Good luck!_

“Turn it back up,” Ginny said, gesturing at the telly. “I think they’re going to announce something.”

Seamus dutifully unmuted it, the three of them leaning forward in anticipation.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Dean said under his breath.

A perky-looking woman with big hair and a sleek dark blue skirt suit came on the screen. She pressed a hand to her ear as if listening closely to something. “We are at this time calling the election for Lily Potter.”

The announcer went on to say something more, but Ginny couldn’t hear, the three of them jumping up and down, cheering madly. Dean grabbed Seamus and snogged him thoroughly. 

“Oi,” Ginny said. “Separate your faces long enough to take a picture with me to send to Harry.”

They crouched together, taking a quick snapchat.

“Open the damn champagne!” Seamus exclaimed.

They drank both bottles, dancing around and turning the music up loud enough to cover the stomping complaint of the upstairs neighbor. Tonight was a night for celebrating, work night or not.

They settled back into a content, slightly buzzed dogpile on the couch a while later when it was time to air President Potter’s victory speech. The picture cut to the stage in a room full of partying people, balloons falling from the ceiling. Someone introduced Lily Potter and then she was stepping out on the stage to nearly deafening cheers. Harry and his father were only a few steps behind, following her out onto the stage.

They all waved, giving big smiles. The perfect American family.

It was strange, watching Harry up on the telly. He was polished and perfect, his expression bland but not off-putting. Like some version of Harry with everything that makes him _him_ scrubbed away.

His father looked just like him, only his skin darker, build a bit stockier. James was also clearly more comfortable, his smile easy like he could walk into any room as if he owned it. Though, Ginny supposed, it would probably take that kind of a man to stand up next to the first woman president. Not resentful, not stealing her light, but just standing there next to her like he knew he was the luckiest arsehole in the world.

She didn’t know if that was more optics or something real.

There was a moment when President Potter leaned towards Harry and said something, and just for the tiniest moment he smiled down at her and laughed and it was real and unguarded, and _there you are_ , she thought.

President Potter stepped up to the podium, smiling and waving as the crowd cheered for her.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Ginny,” Dean said.

She looked over at him in question.

“What’s it like to bone the son of the most powerful person on the planet?”

She looked at President Potter, standing tall and perfect and looking completely unshakeable. “Honestly, I try not to think about it.”

Seamus winced. “That bad, is he?”

Ginny chucked a handful of popcorn at him, and settled in to hear President Potter speak.

* * *

Because the universe hated her, Ginny had a shift at the shop the next morning. Rent couldn’t wait for hangovers though, even if she was more exhausted than anything. It was only a few hours, and she would survive.

The entire city felt hungover anyway, the deep sigh at the end of a long campaign season. Most people just came in to get enormous coffees to go on their way into the office, newspapers tucked under their arm.

Ginny could see Harry’s face on more than one of them, even if just far in the background of the photos of his mum. She imagined he was probably having a lovely lie-in, the bastard. Or maybe there were post-election photo ops and breakfasts. She really wasn’t sure.

The bell above the door dinged, and Ginny dragged herself to her feet, ready to greet her next customer with as much of a smile as she could muster.

Only this customer entered with a bodyguard just a few steps behind.

Ginny’s smile threatened to become something far past polite. “Well,” she said. “If it isn’t the Honorable Mr. Potter.”

“Not sure about the honorable part,” Sirius muttered.

Ginny ignored him, eyes still on Harry. He looked tired, unsurprisingly, though he was also wearing that stupid baseball cap, so it was hard to tell. “Can I take your order?”

Harry’s lips twisted. “Sorry. No. I hate coffee.”

“Are you lost then?” she asked.

He took a step closer. “No. I’m pretty much exactly where I want to be.”

Ginny glanced over at Hannah. She nodded, moving to take over the register.

Taking off her apron, Ginny came around the counter to stand in front of Harry.

There was something almost wary in the way he was watching her. “I really didn’t mean to bother you at work, I just—”

She cut him off, reaching up to pull off his cap, dropping it to the ground. “I am so done with that hat.”

He rubbed sheepishly at his hair. “Deal.”

She stepped nearly up against him, hand resting on his chest, and he immediately reached for her waist, pulling her closer.

He stopped just short of kissing her though, his eyes intent on her face. “Are you sure?”

She knew he was asking about all the shit that would come along with being with him openly, with risking another spread across the internet. She wasn’t exactly excited about the idea, but knew this was part of being with Harry.

And she didn’t want part of him. She wanted all of him.

So instead of answering, she dragged his mouth down to hers.

They would jump off this cliff together.


	4. Chapter 4

**iv.**

Pulling her hair into a ponytail, Ginny slipped into bed next to Harry. He was reading something on his phone that was making him shake with silent mirth, his glasses a bit askew.

It was still novel, seeing him here like this. They didn’t spend the night at her flat all that often. Partly because Ginny didn’t have a lot of privacy, just a small screen separating her bed from the main room. But also because Luna didn’t have a lot of privacy either, her bedroom loft open to the room below. Though that rarely stopped her from having company over when it suited her. Ginny had gotten pretty good at ignoring it, just putting her headphones in and falling asleep listening to music, but it was different when Harry was here too.

Fortunately, Luna was on her own tonight. Which meant they would probably avoid too much awkwardness. Nominally Harry was here so they could do a video call with her family tomorrow, though she was perfectly aware he could have just come over in the morning. Not that she was complaining. It was just…strange.

She’d never been at a ‘just sleep in the same bed together’ phase with anyone, probably not since she was a kid and she and her brothers had occasionally squeezed in together when traveling or visiting family. Or during a scary storm or something.

This, with Harry, was different. This wasn’t even a ‘hey, we just shagged and I’m tired can I just stay’ situation. He was just staying over. They climbed into bed together after brushing teeth and putting on pajamas and all that normal stuff that was suddenly less normal now. But also, still normal?

She knew she made no sense at all.

But she still really, really liked it, having him here at bedtime. It was kind of like everything stopped, just the two of them lying there together. They talked about things, sometimes things that felt too big for any other time or place, but also just silly nonsense. Harry showing her something stupid he saw on the internet that he thought would make her laugh. That kind of thing.

It was nice. And somehow oddly more intimate than sex.

“I think I’m all ready for tomorrow,” Harry said, putting his phone aside and rolling over so he could look at her. “Bring on the Weasley family meeting.”

She smiled. “Feeling confident?”

“Oh, definitely. Who wouldn’t love me?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, knowing perfectly well that this show of arrogance was covering up terrible nerves. He was doing this for her, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. She knew that.

She’d be lying if she said it didn’t made her nervous too. She wasn’t worried about them liking Harry exactly. More worried something unexpected would happen. This meeting between the most important people in her life. 

But also, if she was honest, there was something else. Something she knew she needed to tell Harry. Had known for a while, but had just been putting off over and over again. Well, there was no more time to put it off. In less than twelve hours they would be on the call.

Ginny took a breath. “There’s one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he asked. He studied her face, clearly picking up on something. “Changing your mind?”

She shook her head. “No. Just something I should tell you.”

“About your family.”

She licks her lips. “About the accident.”

“Oh,” he said, and she wondered if he was even aware of his hand automatically brushing her hip, like he was shielding her somehow. If he knew that expression he had on his face whenever she mentioned it, like he was afraid it would happen again.

Ginny couldn’t look at him, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “I didn’t tell you before because for some stupid reason I find it harder to deal with people’s reactions than to just deal with it on its own and I—”

“Ginny,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s okay. Just say it.” 

“It’s just. I wasn’t alone. In the car.”

She was still staring at the ceiling, willing her damn eyes to stay dry. Harry didn’t move or say anything, just waited.

“My brother Fred…” Her voice faltered, and dammit, she should be better than this by now.

“Ginny,” Harry said, voice already hoarse in suspicion, his hand on her arm.

She resisted the instinct to shrug it off, instead forcing herself to turn and look at him. “I guess it was his time.”

She could see it, the moment he got it, that same horrified expression she’d seen a million times by now. She braced herself for the platitudes that had been chasing her for the better part of a year. The bumbling statements, the attempts to understand or sympathize that inevitably just made her so damn angry.

He was still regarding her across the pillow, his hand firm on her arm.

“Okay,” he said.

And that, more than anything, almost broke her. No questions, no _I’m sorry_ , no _I can’t imagine what that must be like_. Just…acceptance.

He shifted closer, pulling her into a hug. 

She turned her face into his chest. “I thought you should know before the call, in case anything comes up.”

“Okay,” he said again, hand in her hair. 

She stayed there, tucked into his arms for a long while, letting herself be comforted.

* * *

“Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, and Ron,” Harry rattled off as he washed his cereal bowl in the sink.

“Perfect,” Ginny said from her perch on the edge of the counter.

Harry set the bowl on the drain board and focused on the rest of the details he’d spend the last few days memorizing. “Bill is married to Fleur and their daughter is Victoire. Percy is engaged to Audrey, and the rest are hopeless bachelors.”

She nodded. “And my parents?”

“Molly and Arthur.”

“See?” Ginny said. “Easy.”

Yeah. It’d only taken four days and freaking _flashcards_.

He crossed over to her, stepping between her legs and wrapping his arms around her waist. “You’re getting off really easy with me being an only child.”

She laughed, leaning forward to loop her arms around his neck. “Don’t I know it.”

He couldn’t resist kissing her, and something about slow, leisurely morning kisses with Ginny were his favorite. At least until he was kissing her later and decided those were his favorite. He was fickle, what could he say.

“Ready for this?” Ginny asked when she drew back away.

“As I’ll ever be.”

She looked at him, looking a little nervous herself. “Just think, if it gets unbearable for any reason, we can fake technical difficulties.”

“Definitely a benefit.”

He helped her hop down off the counter and followed her over to the couch. Her laptop was open on one of those folding table things, ready to call her family. She sat down squarely in front of it, Harry perching off to one side. Ginny felt she’d need to get her family’s full and undivided attention before springing him on them.

The connection loaded, an explosion of sound preceding the picture. From where Harry watched just out of sight of the camera, it seemed like there were dozens of people. It took him a while to find Ron in the chaos, the only familiar face.

“Hi,” Ginny said brightly, her entire face lighting up.

A chorus of greetings echoed back, nearly unintelligible as they overlapped each other.

Ginny leaned forward on her hands, her eyes taking in all of the people. It was clear that she missed them, that she loved them so very much.

“Is everyone there?” she asked.

“Still waiting on Percy,” someone said. “Apparently there was an emergency at the office, but Mum threatened him with a dire end if he missed your call, so he should be here soon.”

Ginny laughed. “Meanwhile, let me see Victiore. I need my baby fix!”

A little girl with blond ringlets was held up to the screen. She babbled incoherently, waving a fist and apparently bumping the screen. “Oh, hi, Victiore. It’s Auntie Ginny all the way from America. Stop growing until I get back for a visit, you hear?”

She blew a giant drooly bubble in response.

There was some sort of activity in the background, voices lifting in greeting. A redheaded face leaned in close to the screen. “Perce is finally here.”

“Oh, good,” Ginny said, glancing at Harry.

He gave her a bracing smile as if he was in no way terrified by the thought of meeting the mob that was her family.

“Can you get everyone settled?” she asked. “I want to tell you all something and I don’t want to have to do it twenty times.”

“Sure,” her brother said. “Oi! Everyone! Get your arses over here.”

“Language, Charlie,” an older woman said. “You aren’t too old for a soapy mouth.”

He winced. “Sorry, Mum.”

Against all odds, people started settling into view, even as they elbowed and complained and jockeyed for position.

“Oi,” Ginny bellowed. “Shut it!”

Unbelievably, they all seemed to listen.

“Thank you. And hi. It’s so nice to see you all.”

They all smiled and waved.

Ginny glanced over at Harry again. “The thing is…I wanted to introduce you all to someone.”

A murmur of sound started to grow at that announcement, until someone shushed them all.

Ginny reached for Harry, giving him a nod, and he moved into frame, sitting next to her on the couch.

He awkwardly waved as nearly a dozen sets of eyes landed on him.

“Everyone, this is Harry.”

“Hey, Harry!” Ron exclaimed, leaning forward. “This is the bloke I was telling you all about. How’s it going, Harry?”

“Great,” Harry said. “Really well.”

“Well, yeah, of course. It would be, wouldn’t it? We were all happy to hear about your mum.”

“Oh, yes,” the woman that had to be Ginny’s mum said. “Please tell her congratulations from us.”

There was a chorus of agreement, along with a few disparaging comments about her opponent.

“Well,” Ginny said, looking at Harry again. “I wanted you to meet Harry because we’ve been seeing each other for the last few weeks.”

This was met with silence that seemed painfully unnatural.

“You’re dating?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Harry said.

Ron regarded them for a long while before slapping his knee and laughing. “It’s about damn time!”

He got swatted for his profanity, but didn’t seem to care.

“You all should have _seen_ them,” Ron went on. “The flirting! The longing glances and utter ridiculousness. Christ. It was painful to watch.”

Harry let out a breath, happy to see that Ron wasn’t angry about the development. Though he thought it was a bit rich for him to complain about being painful to watch, considering him and Hermione.

Something was happening in the back row, a rumble of voices. “I’m the bloody eldest,” someone said.

“Uh,” Ron said, looking behind him. “Hold on a second.”

“That’s Bill,” Ginny said to Harry, as the brother pushed forward to the front.

His face settled up close to the camera, revealing a pronounced scar that gave him a rather intimidating air. “I’m Ginny’s eldest brother, so it falls to me to have a little chat with you, Harry.”

Ginny covered her face with a groan. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Yes,” Bill said. “Now hush.”

God, was he going to have to promise not to have sex with her or something? Because that ship had sailed. Over and over and over again. He decided it was better not to point that out.

Bill’s face pressed closer, expression stern. “Ginny is our little sister. Our _only_ sister. We would do anything for her.”

_Oh_ , Harry thought, _it’s the intimidation speech_. He lifted his chin, trying to square his shoulders. He could survive that. 

“We love her dearly and know her better than anyone else on this earth. Which is why it falls to me to ask you one very important question, Potter.”

“Okay,” he said, glad to hear his voice was steady.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

Harry blinked, not completely sure what Bill meant. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, god love her, she’s _scary_.”

The rest of the brothers nodded solemnly along. Next to Harry, Ginny made a sound like an angry cat.

“So,” Bill continued, “from all of her brothers, I say, best of luck, mate!” He gave him a tight little salute.

The rest of the brothers began to roar with laughter.

“You lot are lucky there’s an ocean between us!” Ginny shouted, her face pink with embarrassment.

“Don’t we know it,” one of them shouted back.

Harry was still frowning at the screen. “Excuse me,” he said, voice not loud, but forceful all the same.

Everyone quieted, looking at him in surprise.

“I think what you meant to say, Bill, is good luck, because Ginny is amazing and there is probably no way on earth I’m good enough for her.”

“Harry,” Ginny said, voice quiet as she touched his arm. “They’re just having a go.” But he could see that it hurt her a little, all the same.

He turned to look at her. “You talk about them all the time. You clearly miss them and love them so much. And you were looking forward to this. For days. Even when you thought it might make me freak out to meet them, you wanted to do this so they wouldn’t be blindsided by the news if we end up in some gossip rag somewhere. And what do you get in return? Abuse and mockery?”

“Did you expect us to threaten you, Potter? Is that it?” Bill asks.

“No,” he said, turning back to the laptop. “We all know Ginny could smash me into the pavement if she wanted to. But she isn’t scary. She’s kind and determined and funny and hardworking and a total disaster sometimes, but I’m lucky as hell that she’s willing to date me. And you’re lucky as hell to have her as part of your family.”

They all looked astonished. Except Ron, who was grinning like an idiot.

He dared a glance at Ginny, but she was staring at him with an indefinable expression on her face.

“That’s enough,” Ginny’s mom said. “Everyone outside.”

“Mum, it’s raining!”

“Then bring an umbrella!” she bellowed back.

They grumbled, but slowly filed out. Ron gave an energetic wave before disappearing.

Soon it was only Mrs. and Mr. Wealsey with, improbably enough, a sleeping Victiore in his arms.

“There now,” Mrs. Weasley said, smoothing her skirt. “That’s nicer.”

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck, beginning to feel a little embarrassed about his outburst. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Mrs. Weasley waved away his apology. “Sometimes it takes yelling to be heard.”

Ginny snorted.

“So tell us about yourself, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Ron mentioned you’re in school?”

“Yes,” he said, a little thrown by the abrupt change in topic. “I’m just about finished.”

She smiled. “Lovely. Any plans for after?”

“Uh, no. Not yet.” _Great. Way to look like an aimless loser_ , he thought.

Only Mrs. Weasley didn’t look put off, her smile widening. “Well, you have time, dear.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, leaning into Harry. “She’s probably hoping you can be convinced to move to England.”

Mrs. Weasley didn’t miss a beat. “You’ll have to come over and visit some time.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’d really like that, Mrs. Weasley.”

She smiled. “Aren’t you sweet.” Her expression hardened as she turned to look at Ginny. “Too sweet for a girl who doesn’t call her mum every day like she promised!”

“Mum!” Ginny moaned. “I really am quite busy!”

Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue. “You need to take care of yourself. Are you getting enough sleep? Tell me you aren’t just living on takeaway.”

Mrs. Weasley fussed over Ginny for a while, and Harry just grinned and held her hand.

“Well, it’s probably time I let your brothers back in the house,” Mrs. Weasley eventually said. “It was very nice meeting you, Harry.”

“You too,” he says.

“I love you,” Ginny said, blowing her parents a kiss.

Ginny closed the lid of the laptop, sitting there a moment with her hand on top of it.

Then she turned to Harry and practically jumped him, climbing onto his lap and kissing him as he slid backwards.

She pulled her mouth from his just long enough to say, “Has anyone told you that you are rash and ridiculous and completely perfect?”

“The first two, quite often,” he admitted. “But the last one, not so much.”

“Well, you are,” she said, and kissed him as if to prove it. 


End file.
